Tripod
by Bm89
Summary: Spoiler alert: It does not involve a camera. Sorry ;) Tuckson.


**A/N: First things first – I AM NOT A DOCTOR, AND I DON'T PLAY ONE ON TV. So, if anything in the ridiculous number of words that follow this note is wildly inaccurate, medically speaking, I ask for your leeway (this is fiction, after all). Secondly, I know there are going to be at least a few of you who don't like the general subject matter (you'll understand what I mean when you read – *** **insert evil laugh here** ***). I hope you stick around for the second A/N at the bottom, and hopefully I'll have made it worth your while.**

 **S/O to JennBenson, JustSimpleeeMeee & MarigoldMusings for their help at various points through this. Pretty sure JennBenson should get the credit for writing the dang thing, but I'll take the heat if you hate it :) I heart you girls mucho. **

**Curiosity peaked yet? Let's begin…**

 **##**

"Liv?" His voice was a soft rasp in her ear, and her brow furrowed against her pillow. "Liv?" he tried again. "C'mon, wake up sleepyhead…" She felt his hand rest lightly on her shoulder, gently prodding her to open her eyes.

"Time is it?" she grumbled sleepily, still stubbornly refusing to open her eyes.

"Twenty to eight," he said.

 _Shit_.

He jumped back, soft "whoa" escaping his lips, dodging her flailing limbs as she flew out of bed. The sudden movement threw her equilibrium, and she paused beside the bed, disguising the particularly wicked dizzy spell with a hand over her face.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked. It wasn't his fault she'd overslept, but for some reason, she couldn't contain her petulance.

"Just got home," he explained tiredly. The last thing he really wanted to do after a long night of negotiating was end up in an accidental argument with her, so he let her crankiness go. "Lucy was outside in the hall. She didn't bring her key."

At his words, panic settled like bile in her stomach and she had to tamp down the urge to wretch. "Noah?"

 _If he'd been awake, waiting for her…_

"Still sleeping," Ed assured her. She heaved a sigh of relief, texting Fin that she was running late as she made her way to the bathroom. She could feel Ed's eyes on her the whole way, but she didn't acknowledge him further, cowardly unable to face the worry she knew she'd find in his eyes.

When she came out of the bedroom twenty minutes later ready for work, he held out a travel mug of coffee for her and she waved him off.

"I'll pick something up on the way," she told him, ignoring his disconcerted expression and kissing him on the cheek. "Love you."

She ruffled Noah's hair and kissed his forehead. "Be good, sweet boy. Mommy loves you."

She waved hi and goodbyes to Lucy, and half a second later, without sparing a second glance at Ed, the door shut behind her and she was gone.

##

"Does _no one_ know what they're doing around here anymore?"

Fin looked up in time to see a uni rush away from his Lieutenant's office red-faced and with what looked suspiciously like tears in his eyes.

"That's the second time in two days she's done that," Amanda observed, raising an eyebrow at Fin and jumping when Olivia's office door slammed shut behind the Lieutenant. "Maybe you should go talk to her?"

"Me?" Fin looked at his fellow detective like she had just sprouted a second head on her narrow shoulders. "Why me?"

"You've known her longest," Amanda shrugged. "Plus," she added dryly, closing the file she was working on and picking up another, "she's yelled at me enough the last two years. I think I've earned the reprieve."

Fin looked to Carisi for help. "And why not you, Choirboy?"

"Fin," Amanda interjected before Carisi could respond and he shot her a grateful look. The last place he wanted to go was his Lieutenant's office while she was in this mood, whatever it was. All he really knew how to do was put his foot in his mouth. That hardly seemed helpful. Amanda cocked her head toward Olivia's door. "Go talk to her. You know you're the only one she'll really listen to."

Reluctantly, Fin got up from his desk and grumbled the whole way across the squad room. As his knuckles rapped against the glass, he shot a frustrated look toward Amanda, who smiled sweetly at him before returning her concentration to paperwork.

He heard a soft, slightly agitated voice through the glass and steeled himself before he walked in.

"What is it, Fin?" She snapped, annoyed by the interruption.

He shut the door behind him but didn't say a word, causing her to spare him a half-hearted glance as she pecked away at her laptop answering emails.

"Fin?"

He sat in a guest chair opposite her desk and considered her. She looked tired, worn down, pale, a far cry from the lively, healthy Lieutenant who sat in her chair a week ago. "Everything okay, Liv?"

She scoffed. "Everything's fine," she said dismissively.

"Bullshit," he called, staring her down as if to challenge her to argue. She took off her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. The action drew his attention to the dark circles beneath her eyes. "What's going on, Liv?"

"Nothing," she tried, weakly.

"You makin' unis cry ain't nothin'," he argued. At her silence, he continued. "You barkin' orders at us ain't nothin', either."

She heaved an exasperated sigh. "Look, I'll apologize to Paul Blart in a minute," she snapped, before continuing in a softer, more apologetic voice, "and I'm sorry for barking at you guys, too."

"Well, at least that second one sounded more sincere," he noted dryly.

Her lip twitched in a small smile and she closed her laptop, leaning back in her chair and looking at him contemplatively across her desk. "I'm just tired, Fin."

"What, are you not sleeping?"

This was a million-dollar question as far as she was concerned. She was sleeping fine; more than she used to, even, since she was CO and it was her detectives getting called out of bed at 3AM most of the time instead of her. But even despite getting more sleep than she had in her entire history with the NYPD, despite having a toddler in the next room, she couldn't remember the last time she actually felt rested.

"I'm sleeping." She answered the question and avoided it simultaneously, Fin noted. One of her own special tricks.

"Maybe you should take some time, Liv," he suggested sympathetically. Whatever she was battling wasn't be helped by her grueling hours.

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but really, I'm fine," she dismissed him.

##

The next night, by some miracle, Olivia had managed to make it home before Noah's bedtime, plodding into the apartment and releasing a heavy sigh as she locked up her gun and hung up her jacket, hoping to shake off the day like an outer skin that she could just leave behind on the floor.

It had been an unbearably long one for some reason. No more twisted or heinous than any day before, but the exhaustion overwhelmed her.

She kissed Noah's head where he sat on the floor and practically fell onto the couch, folding an arm over her eyes.

"Rough day?" She heard Ed's voice call tentatively from the kitchen. She suppressed the frustrated groan that threatened to spill from her lips. He'd been giving her a wide berth lately, his voice always laced with hesitation and the fear she could sense he felt of saying the wrong thing. At any given time, she couldn't decide whether she was grateful or annoyed.

"Long," she said curtly. "I have a headache."

"Want me to get you something for it?"

She sighed. "That would be great, thanks."

Moments later, she could feel his presence and squinted her eyes open, feeling guilty and instantly emotional at the look of concern she saw in his eyes. The poor man had been walking on eggshells around her.

She took the proffered pills and a sip of water before setting the glass on the coffee table. "Thanks," she murmured, giving him a small smile.

"You should eat something."

She shook her head carefully. "Not hungry."

Gingerly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead as if to kiss it better and she was overwhelmed with affection for this man, who could no better explain her frightful moods lately than she could, but was still right there beside her, taking everything she gave him, no matter what. They shared a brief, tender moment before he left her be and quietly busied himself in the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of the dinner he and Noah shared.

But the peaceful silence of the evening was interrupted when Noah's favorite commercial came on the TV. He jumped up, shouting along with the jingle, as Olivia cringed, squeezing her eyes shut against the noise.

"Noah," she heard Ed approach quickly from the kitchen. "Mommy doesn't feel good, bud," he said. "Let's settle down."

Ed's cajoling fell on deaf ears as Noah continued to scream jubilantly at the TV, until finally, unable to handle it anymore, Olivia sprang up from the couch, screaming loudly enough at her son to stop that she commanded his attention from the screen.

The second she saw the pout on his face, she regretted her outburst, her eyes filling with tears as she watched him dissolve into a fit of hysterical crying. "I'm sorry, baby," she hiccupped, reaching for him and gasping when he dodged her grasp, running for Ed instead.

She looked on, heartbroken, as Ed scooped up her son, hugging him into his chest and whispering softly in his ear as he tried to soothe the boy's wails.

Olivia stood, making her way over to where Noah's head rested on Ed's shoulder. She rubbed his back softly. "Noah? My love, can you look at me?" He eyed her warily, his breath hitching, before tucking his face into Ed's neck. Olivia looked at her boyfriend, her eyes pleading for help.

"Noah," Ed prodded. "Can you look at your mommy, kiddo?" He tried to turn his body so Noah would have no choice, but he felt little arms wrap around his neck instead, unforgiving.

Undeterred, Olivia caressed the back of his head, planting a soft kiss on his hair, and whispered to him. "I'm so sorry for yelling, baby. So sorry if I scared you. Mommy didn't mean to, okay?" She kissed him once more. "I love you, sweet boy."

Ed waited a beat, but seeing no progress from Noah, he looked to Olivia. "I'm gonna go get him ready for bed," he told her. "It's about that time anyway."

Reluctantly, she nodded, and she watched, wringing her hands together, tears streaming down her face as Ed carried Noah to his bedroom. Once they were out of sight, she fell into the chair behind her, sobs wracking her body as she fell apart.

This wasn't her. She had barely even raised her voice to Noah before this evening, and now he had this scary image of her in his head. And no matter how hard she tried she would never forget the look on his face before he escaped her reach and found comfort in Ed's arms instead.

Wiping at her eyes, she stood with a fresh resolve to make things right. There was no way she'd be able to sleep knowing he was still terrified of her. She stood in the doorway of his bedroom, listening with a cautious smile as Ed read from one of his books. When he was done, Noah's eyes darted to her. She breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't obviously flinch or shrink back away from her.

"Can I come in?" At Noah's shy, hesitant nod, she made her way into the room.

"Want me to stay?" Ed whispered, squeezing two of her fingers in his hand and watching the interaction between mother and son. Kids were resilient; he knew Noah wouldn't take long to come around to her again, but he still wanted to make sure everyone was comfortable.

Looking at her son, she shook her head. "We'll be okay. I'll be out in a few."

Ed nodded, leaning forward and kissing Noah on the forehead. "Goodnight, little guy."

Olivia took Ed's seat in the chair that was pulled up close to Noah's toddler bed and opened her arms to him. "C'mere, baby."

She let out a weepy laugh when he didn't hesitate like she thought he might, but launched himself into her arms. She squeezed him tightly, rubbing circles on his back and whispering an endless string of "I'm sorry" and "I love you".

After a moment, Noah pulled back, settling further into her lap. "Story?"

Olivia smiled, kissing his forehead as she granted his request, picking up another of his favorite books and reading to him softly. When she was done, she looked down to see that he had fallen asleep, and she carefully put the book down, opting to cradle him in her arms for a few minutes more.

"Mommy's going to do better, my sweet boy," she promised.

##

She crept out of Noah's room minutes later, softly closing the door behind her and walking back toward where Ed was waiting in the living room. She stopped in the kitchen and filled a glass of water, forgetting the one Ed had poured her on the coffee table.

"I'm going to bed," she announced.

"Liv." The tone of his voice stopped her and she turned to look at him expectantly. "We have to talk about this." At her blank expression, he elaborated. "You blew up at your three year old son," he recounted for her, watching her wince at the harsh recollection. "That's not you."

"I know it's not," she sighed. "And I regretted it the second it happened, Ed." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I apologized to him. He'll be okay. It won't happen again."

"It won't?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed. He didn't want to make her feel guiltier than he was sure she already felt for what happened. The look on her face when Noah ran to him instead… it damn near broke his heart. But the way she'd been acting…

"It means…that Noah is not the only one you've been blowing up at lately," he finally said.

Olivia's head fell back, frustration seeping into her features, exacerbated by her total exhaustion. She had run the gamut of emotions today. 'Worn out' couldn't begin to describe it. "Ed," she pleaded. "Can we please not do this now?"

They locked eyes, and she sighed in defeat, trudging toward him and sitting on the couch.

"Olivia, I'm worried about you."

"I know I've been _difficult_ lately, but I'll get over it," she said.

"It's not just that," he explained. Mentally, he tallied up the things he'd witnessed. The mood swings, the exhaustion that never waned. He recalled a recent night where he'd squeezed her breast in the throes of a particularly heated make-out session, his touch no rougher than normal, and she'd recoiled from him, her reflexes working so quickly to remove his hand from her, it was as if he'd shocked her.

After that, she'd spurned nearly all of his advances. They hadn't made love since.

His eyes widened as a theory took shape in his head, and he looked at her closely while he worked out how to ask, what to ask, as she watched him impatiently.

"Liv," he cringed inwardly at the trepidation he could hear in his own voice. "Is there a chance you might be—?"

"Might be, what, Ed?" She sighed. "Spit it out."

"Pregnant?"

##

She blanched for a quick second before she recovered, dismissing him. "I'm probably just getting my period or something." She couldn't be pregnant. Could she?

"Do you usually get like this when you're getting your period?" he challenged.

"Excuse me?"

He backpedaled, holding his arms out in surrender. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, sighing. "I just… You've been so…moody lately," he explained. "Which, I'll grant you, can sometimes happen when you're upset about a case, and I get that," he rambled. "But it's just been _all the time_. You're tired all the time," he added. "Which, again, can happen…" He stopped, rubbing his hand across his face. This wasn't going the way he'd pictured it in his head. "It just seems like everything is…more...than what I would consider normal, for you. And then, lashing out at Noah—"

"I wish I hadn't done that, more than you know, Ed," she argued dejectedly, looking down at her lap.

"I know." He reached for her hand. "And he'll be fine. He _is_ fine," he amended. "But I'm worried about you," he reiterated.

He saw tears well up in her eyes again and he pushed a rogue wisp of hair behind her ear.

"You don't need to be worried about me," she told him. "I'm fi—"

"You're fine, I know," he interrupted. "But, it would make me feel better if you got checked out, just in case you're not fine." She rolled her eyes at him, but he was pleased to see a glimmer of playfulness in the gesture instead of the annoyance she'd been exhibiting lately. He leaned toward her so their foreheads were pressed together. "Can you do that for me, Liv?" he pleaded. "I just want you to be okay."

She nodded against him. "I'll make an appointment tomorrow." Hearing his sigh of relief, she pulled back, placing a hand on his thigh. "What if I am?"

"What?"

"What if I am…pregnant?" she clarified, meeting his eyes.

"Then we have a baby," he said, as if the answer was obvious.

She looked at him dumbly. "Just like that?"

"What else did you want me to say?" Taking a deep breath, he pulled her to him. "Look, let's not get worked up until we know we have something to get worked up about, okay?" He ran his hand in a comforting pattern up and down her back and enjoyed the feeling of her body releasing its tension and melting into his. "Just promise me you'll call your doctor tomorrow."

"I promise," she whispered into his neck. She took a deep breath through her nose, absorbing the rugged, masculine scent that was uniquely him and smiled to herself. "I kinda like that you're worried about me," she confessed.

"Yeah, well, get used to it."

##

"Olivia Benson," her doctor greeted cheerily. "Be still my heart. I thought you hated coming here between your annual exams," she teased.

"Oh, I do." Olivia confirmed with a smile.

Dr. McCormick set her iPad on the countertop of the exam room and plopped onto the short stool in front of Olivia. "Well, then, there must be a good reason for this visit," she patted Olivia's knee briefly before retracting her hand. "What's going on?"

Olivia took a deep breath. "I don't know, I guess I've been in kind of a…funk, lately, for lack of a better word."

"Okay," Dr. McCormick nodded. "What kind of funk?"

"I've been super irritable and emotional. I'm exhausted," she shared, "which, really, isn't anything new, but it seems like it's hard for me to get to a point where I truly feel rested. And everything is heightened, beyond what I, or my boyfriend, would consider normal for me."

"I'm going to ask you a couple of questions, and based on your answers to those, I'll know how we'll want to go about solving this mystery." At Olivia's nod of understanding, Dr. McCormick continued. "Are you still taking your birth control?"

"Yes."

"Are you taking it consistently?" her doctor pushed. "Every day, around the same time every day?"

 _Well…_

"I try to, but you know, in my line of work…sometimes I'm not in a position to get to them right on the nose."

Now it was Dr. McCormick's turn to nod understandingly. "Have you been sexually active recently?" It never failed, no matter how old she got, and knowing perfectly well she was in a judgment-free zone, Olivia always blushed when asked that question. She gave only a brief nod and a smile in answer. "Good for you," the doctor winked and Olivia chuckled. "When was your last period?"

Olivia took a deep breath as she flipped back the pages of her mental calendar. It had to have been… "Maybe six weeks ago?"

This didn't come as a huge surprise to her, nor was it especially alarming. She hadn't been regular in years, the stress of the job sometimes throwing her cycle out of whack. After the first few times she thought her missed period equaled a baby, she stopped putting so much weight on the frequency of her cycle.

"Okay, so here's what I want to do. I'm going to take some blood, and we'll check your hormone levels. If we rule out pregnancy, we can talk about some other things that could be causing your symptoms, and how we can fix 'em. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Olivia breathed. "How long will it take to know, whether or not I'm…?"

"The lab should have the results in a day or two," Dr. McCormick assured gently. She scrutinized Olivia carefully, noted her quieter-than-normal disposition, and smiled at the older woman. "Olivia, are you okay?"

Almost as soon as the words "I'm fine" escaped her lips, there were tears in her eyes, and she wiped at them furiously, trying to maintain her composure in front of her longtime doctor. "This is going to be longest day or two of my life," she joked, still wiping at her face.

"I know," Dr. McCormick nodded sympathetically.

"Is it even safe for a woman my age to have a baby?"

"I see it more than you think, especially in the last few years. It seems a lot of women are waiting until later in life," the doctor said. "It can be harder to carry to term, and there are certain risks that increase significantly when the mother is over 45, but," she shrugged, "I've seen women in their fifties deliver perfectly healthy babies before." Olivia nodded. "Let's not worry about that until we get there, though. We'll see what your blood work says, and we'll go from there, okay?"

##

"How did it go today?"

Olivia had to give him kudos. She could tell he'd been bursting to ask her about her appointment since he'd walked in the door with Noah that afternoon, but they hadn't been able to sneak a moment alone to talk about it until they crawled into bed that night.

"It went," she sighed, turning on her side to face him and reaching for his hand, which he offered willingly. "They took blood; she wants to rule out pregnancy before anything else."

He nodded. "So it's possible?"

"I guess anything's possible at this point, until we know otherwise," she shrugged, giving him a resigned sort of smile.

He scooted closer to her, tangling their legs together and sharing her pillow so that their foreheads were practically touching. "How are you feeling about all this?"

Could he have asked a more loaded question?

"Honestly?" He nodded. "I'm conflicted. Scared." She took a deep breath and busied her fingers with rolling the fabric of his t-shirt at his chest. Her eyes flicked to his. "I've always wanted to be pregnant. Always," she emphasized. "And on some level, the thought that I might be excites me. But, on the flip side, the thought of doing it now, at almost fifty years old, scares the hell out of me." She closed her eyes against the emotion she could feel building up again, and paused to collect herself while he rubbed her back soothingly.

"I'm here, Liv. I'll be here, no matter what," he assured her, pressing his lips to her forehead and letting them linger there.

"I know." She gave him a half-smile. "But, I mean, there could be all kinds of complications; I may not be able to carry to term. There are higher risks for birth defects. I worry about what kind of impact the stress I feel with my job would have…What if I have to go on bed rest? Would I have to retire? I don't know if I'm ready to leave..."

"Hey, hey," he stopped her. "Let's take this one step at a time, okay? For all we know right now, you're not."

"Do you want a baby?"

He skirted her question. "I want whatever you want, Liv."

She chuckled. "That's not a real answer, but nice try."

"I learned from the best," he smiled at her slyly.

"Want to take another stab at it, Captain?"

"It would be…challenging, I think, at this stage in our lives, to start from scratch," he conceded, and Olivia nodded her agreement, "but if it happened? If you are pregnant… if anyone could handle that, it's us, don't you think? Noah could help," he suggested. She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge, and he added flirtatiously, waggling his eyebrows, "Plus, I think you and I would make beautiful babies."

"We would," she agreed somewhat reluctantly. "So, we're tentatively happy with either direction the test results could go?" She looked searchingly into his eyes.

"I would be overjoyed to raise a baby with you that is half of both of us," he said honestly, causing her heart to swell. "But if you're not? I will continue to be overjoyed to be a part of the little tripod we have going now, just the three of us."

She looked at him then, into his steel blue eyes, mesmerized and beyond grateful at the love she saw in them. She'd taken them on a rollercoaster ride as of late, one that didn't yet show signs of stopping, and still he was there, comforting her, holding her, weathering it with her. Her rock.

"I love you," she whispered, bringing a hand to his cheek and bringing his lips to hers.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he felt her lips move over his, and he squeezed her closer to him, relishing the proximity after what felt like an extended period of far less than their usual amount of intimacy between them. He wasn't going to push her for anything beyond this, here. Not tonight. When their kiss broke, both needing air, she immediately tucked her head into his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaving little space between their bodies as they succumbed to sleep, thoughts and anticipation weighing heavily on both their minds.

Against her hair, just before he drifted off, he murmured, "I love you, too."

##

Olivia was packing up to leave her office the following evening when her cell phone rang and she groaned, hoping with every fiber of her being that it wasn't another case or one of her detectives needing her on a scene. She was so tired she could feel it in her bones.

"Benson," she answered; the same formal, clipped tone that was her usual.

"Olivia – it's Dr. McCormick. Is now a good time?"

"Uh, sure," she croaked. Abandoning her plans to leave, at least until this phone call was done, Olivia felt her mouth dry as she traversed the few steps to her office door, pushing it closed before she returned to her desk. "Should I be sitting down for this?"

Laughter coming through from the other end of the phone quieted her nerves a little and she took a deep breath. "That's up to you," Dr. McCormick said. "We got your blood work back. Earlier than I expected, too, which I thought you'd appreciate…"

"Okay." Olivia waited a beat, and when the doctor didn't continue, she prompted her.

"I don't know if its good or bad to you, but the _news_ is: you're not pregnant."

 _You're not pregnant._

It was an interesting feeling, letting those words seep into her brain, different from the last time, almost three years ago, with Brian. Then, when she was desperate to be a mother, desperate for something to cling to in the wake of everything that happened with William Lewis, she had felt ready to take that next step.

Then, not yet knowing how _not_ ready Brian was to be a father or that he really didn't want to be one at all, looking down at a negative pregnancy test had been a crushing disappointment. Of course, in retrospect, it was a blessing in disguise, but all she could focus on at the time was that brief window where she was ecstatic at that prospect of finally, _finally_ becoming a mother, only for a plastic stick to take that happiness away.

And now? Three years later, she had a hard time pinning her feelings at the statement – _you're not pregnant_ – down to just one. Unsurprisingly given her conversation with Ed the night before, relief was a big one, the main one. The pros and cons of pregnancy at her age had been occupying a lot of real estate in her brain since Ed had broached the prospect of the possibility a couple days before.

Knowing she wouldn't be putting her body through such stress, subsequently risking an unborn child's health, put her at ease beyond what she would ever be able to articulate.

As she was about to ask what the next steps were to figuring out why she was experiencing such extremes of irritability, exhaustion, et cetera, Dr. McCormick spoke again. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Olivia cleared her throat, swallowing thickly to keep her emotions at bay. "So, if I'm not pregnant, what do you think is behind everything I'm experiencing?"

"It sounds like perimenopause," Dr. McCormick answered gently. "It affects a lot of women differently, but we've found that the symptoms can be very similar to those of pregnancy." Olivia took a deep breath as she digested this new information. "We can regulate your hormones a bit with a progesterone ointment or changing up your birth control," Olivia nodded silently though the doctor couldn't see her. After a somewhat lengthy pause, Dr. McCormick continued, assuring Olivia that what she was experiencing was completely normal for a woman of her age.

The confliction Olivia was feeling had redoubled, but she laughed. "Well, that's reassuring. Ed will love that," she said.

"Just so you know," the doctor added, "as long as you're still having periods, pregnancy is still within the realm of possibility." Olivia swiped at the tears threatening to fall from her eyelashes. "It's just harder to conceive, if that's something you're interested in pursuing."

##

Olivia had gone from being in a hurry to get home, to staring somewhat catatonically at a spot on her desk before numbly gathering her things, opting to leisurely walk the short distance to their building, rather than drive.

She needed the time to process, to reconcile the bevy of emotions that were swirling within her.

In a matter of moments, she had gone from being relieved she wasn't pregnant, to feeling a unique sense of melancholy at the understanding that at this point in her life, the likelihood of it ever happening was slim and dwindling.

On the one hand, she was resolute in the knowledge that Noah fulfilled every desire she had to be a mother. He made her a mother, and because of him, she would always _be_ a mother. But…on the other hand, being faced with the prospect of truly _never_ being pregnant, never carrying a child, left her with a lingering pang of sadness. She still would have been petrified if she'd been pregnant, plagued by the what-ifs, stressed by the risks; but now she'd likely never have to worry about it, and that, she determined, was a double-edged sword if ever there was one.

Standing outside her apartment door, she braced herself before going in. She knew no matter how hard she tried to mask her emotions Ed would read her like a book the second he saw her.

Sure enough, after kissing Noah hello, as she made her way into the kitchen where he was stirring a pot of pasta, he turned to smile at her and his face dropped. Setting the wooden spoon he was holding on a dishrag, he hurried the two steps it took to get to her and immediately enveloped her in his arms. "Are you okay?" She hiccupped against his chest, and he smoothed her hair under his palm. "You heard from the doctor today, didn't you?" he asked knowingly.

She nodded, pulling away slightly and wiping at the fresh tears on her face. "I'm fine."

"Liv…"

"I mean… I'm not _fine_. But there's nothing really wrong with me," she explained.

"Well, that's good at least," he said tentatively. He brushed a few stray hairs off her face and slouched down to meet her eyes. The sadness he found in them made his heart clench. "Do you want to talk about this now, or wait until Noah goes to sleep?"

"Later, please," she sighed. "I just need to finish…" she flailed her hands a bit, shaking her head as she tried to come up with the right word, "processing."

"Of course." He released her, and took a step back, tending to dinner again but keeping a careful eye on her. As she turned to go get changed into more comfortable clothes, he called to her. "Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," he reminded her.

She tilted her head and gave him a soft smile. "I love you, too," she whispered. "I'll be right back, and then I'll help you finish dinner."

##

Ed could hardly keep his eyes off her the whole rest of the evening, surreptitiously glancing at her, or so he thought, watching for every nuance in her facial expression, ready to take her in his arms again if need be.

Noah was especially rambunctious during his bedtime routine, and Ed was jumping out of his skin as he heard Olivia start a third book, wearing a hole up and down the small hallway before he needed some distance and took his pacing to the living room.

Finally, mercifully, she emerged, tiredly running her fingers through her wavy hair, and chuckling when she saw how fretful he was. Her alone time with Noah had been cathartic, helping her assuage some of her more negative emotions and channel them into being thankful for at least having _him._

"Ed," she implored, hands on his chest. "Relax. I'm okay." She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. "Sit. Let's talk."

He released a sigh, sitting with his back to the arm of the couch, facing her.

"You're killing me, Liv," he begged, reaching for her hand and grasping it tightly in his.

 _Rip the Band-Aid_. "I'm not pregnant."

He nodded, his face giving way to neither happiness nor its antithesis at the news, blowing out a breath through parted lips. "Okay." He squeezed her hand. "Did she tell you what it was, then?"

"Everything – the mood swings, exhaustion, irritability – has basically been Mother Nature's way of telling me I'm getting close to menopause," she told him bluntly. "I think she called it perimenopause; a lot of similar symptoms to pregnancy, very different meaning."

Catching the small crack in her voice at the tail end, Ed caught her eyes. "How do you feel about that?"

"You should think about becoming a shrink when you retire," she deflected. "That was perfect."

His lips twitched in the barest of indulgent smiles before he was urging her to go on. "Liv."

She sighed, knowing full well he wasn't going to relent until she told him everything. "I was relieved when she told me I wasn't pregnant," she said honestly. "Well, I was a lot of things. But relieved was the strongest thing. Not necessarily because I didn't want a baby with you, but…I just kept going over the potential complications, everything that could wrong, wondering if my body could even handle a pregnancy at this stage in my life—"

"I know, Liv."

"But then," she continued, "When she said this was all likely perimenopause… She said as long as I'm still having periods, the possibility of getting pregnant still exists. But realistically, it's tiny," she ran her fingers through her hair. "And I guess, hearing that, biologically, that window is almost officially closed, it got to me," she admitted, looking down at their hands in her lap.

He rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her hands and nodded. "You feel like you missed an opportunity."

"In a way, yeah, I do. But at the same time, I have Noah," she said simply. She stared blankly ahead for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "I know I never needed this baby to feel complete, because Noah does that for me. You do that for me," she squeezed his hand. "Noah isn't mine biologically, but that has never diminished the love I have for him. Not one iota."

"He may not be yours biologically but he's sure got your stubborn streak," Ed joked, bringing levity into the otherwise heavy, emotional moment. She swatted at him playfully before his eyes grew serious again. "I'm sorry, Liv."

She took a deep breath, studying his face before she responded. She'd taken every second she could since she hung up the phone with the doctor to really absorb the information and wrap her head around it. She touched a palm to his cheek, pecking his lips softly and staying close to his face when she pulled her lips from his. "I'm not," she assured him. At his quizzical look, she clarified. "If it was meant to be, it would've happened." She shrugged, face still inches from his. "Getting here, finding Noah, being with you… it's all taught me that. Everything happens for a reason, and though I may not understand that reason," she conceded, "I was not meant to carry a child."

"Liv…"

She put a finger to his lips to silence him and continued talking. "It doesn't mean I'm not a mother."

He wasted no time pulling her into his chest. "You're a damn good mother. _The best_ ," he whispered fiercely into her ear, as if daring her to argue with his assessment. "Noah is lucky to have you." She pressed a kiss to his neck in silent thanks.

Pulling away, she smiled at him warmly. "Can you imagine what it would've been like, the two of us chasing after another toddler in a couple of years? At our ages?"

"Ah, we coulda handled it," he claimed good-naturedly.

She bristled at the thought. As painful as it was to hear that she would likely never bear a child, she found that the emotion she was gravitating toward was relief over sadness. "I think Noah was dropped into my lap for a reason," she concluded. "Unless something similar happens again, something that just feels too right to ignore, for both of us," she squeezed his hand and gave him a pointed look, acknowledging their partnership before echoing his feelings from a couple nights before, "I am perfectly content with our little tripod."

##

She eyed the clock by the TV with a groan. It was only 9:00pm. "Will you make fun of me for being old if I say I'm tired and I want to go to bed?"

He chuckled, standing up and pulling her to her feet by their joined hands. "I'll go with ya. It's been a hell of a week," he commented, throwing his arms around her waist and hobbling behind her to the bedroom.

As they climbed between the sheets moments later, teeth brushed and clad in pajamas, both gravitated toward the center of the bed, toward each other. He reached for her hand, and clasped in it his before pulling it to his lips and planting a kiss on her skin.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"Indulging me," he shrugged. Olivia was fiercely independent; he knew this. It was one of the first things, aside from her obvious attributes, that had attracted him to her in the first place. He knew it was a challenge for her sometimes to have someone in her life that cared for her as deeply as he did, and who worried about her well being. It took her awhile to reconcile that caring for her didn't mean that he didn't think she was capable of looking out for herself. "Not pushing me away."

"I kinda want to keep you around," she admitted with a sultry smile.

She jerked her chin at him subtly, so subtly that he almost didn't notice it at first, but his gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips, and back to her eyes, and there was no mistaking the desire he saw in them. He leaned in pressing his lips to hers and moaned when he felt her mouth open to his almost immediately, inviting a deeper kiss. He accommodated her, sliding his tongue along hers sensually as his hand came up to frame her face.

They got lost in the intensity, in the emotion of the kiss, until they were both gasping for breath and she had pulled him half on top of her, his shirt discarded to the far reaches of the bedroom and hers bunched just beneath her breasts.

"Is this okay?" he asked her, his lips red and bruised from the ferocity of their kisses. He had a feeling he knew the answer, but after the other night, he didn't want to go any further if she wasn't feeling it.

He waited with bated breath as she smiled at him lazily, her own lips kiss-swollen, as she traced the hard line of his jaw with her finger. "I may be getting old, but I'm not fragile," she teased, pulling him to rest fully on top of her and parting her thighs to welcome his weight.

Ed smiled, nuzzling her neck and reaching for her hands, intertwining their fingers and pinning her arms above her head. "I love you," he told her, looking intensely into her eyes.

"I love you, too."

##

 **A/N: The moral of the story is that while I'm sure OMB pictured her life turning out any number of different ways, that doesn't mean that she can't be happy/content/fulfilled with the reality that she ended up with, which for now includes a son, and a partner. (Can I get a hallelujah?) She's happy, and she doesn't need to give birth to be complete (in my head, anyway). I know there are some people out there just jonesing for a Tuckson baby. Just wanted to offer a little perspective.**

 **So…what's the verdict?**


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